by TyrannoTitan » Sun Jun 17, 2012 5:10 am
As the armies moved steadily toward the epicenter of the blight, the darkness only continued to grow, and land around them became as blackened and lifeless as the sky above. It wasn't long before they were forced to light the way artificially. Torches would enable poor visibility at best, but magical light had considerably more success, though it was still quite poor. Eventually, when they had almost reached the heart of the darkness, Radamand and Tzeench signaled for a halt.
"Give us sixty seconds, then lead them into position," Tzeentch said to the giant, who nodded. Tzeentch stood silent for a moment, and a split second later, a group of 14 mages emerged from the darkness that separated them from the assembled armies. The spellcasters were comprised of members from various factions, including goblins, humans, and Zuppolandians. With a swift nod, Tzeentch extinguished the light in her hand and shot off into the shadows, the group of mages trailing behind her. They all moved incredibly fast, using magic to alter their speed, and navigated the ruined landscape with extreme skill. As Tzeentch had taught them before the armies departed to battle, the spellcasters were using magic as a form of sonar, allowing them to traverse the hellish realm as if it were broad daylight. In thirty seconds, the group had reached their destination: the cliffs that Tzeentch had declared their field of battle.
The group was divided into threes. Each division moved to either a cliff or the space between them. With extremely fluid motions, the menagerie of spellcasters raised waist-high cover from the earth itself along the edges of the cliffs, as well as at the bases of the ramps that led further into the darkness. These short collums were spaced out every few feet, giving the defenders much needed cover when they required it. Tzeentch assisted in raising the earthen walls atop the middle of the three cliffs, focused as the rest of them on her goal. And for good reason. The assembled group of mages had been instructed to close their eyes completely as they worked, and to keep them that way until the bulk of the forces arrived. In the darkness, their eyesight was useless anyway, but this had been necessary for a very different reason.
A few hundred feet from the mages, situated in what seemed like mid-air, were two gargantuan glowing eyes, glaring down at them as they worked. The Traitor God was watching, yet he did nothing to stop them.
After the sixty seconds was up, Radamand let out a terrifying battlecry. "NOW, CHILDREN OF ASTER! TO YOUR STATIONS! LET THE FATE OF THIS LAND BE DECIDED!" he roared into the darkness behind him, his form seeming to swell a few feet as the giant began to emit a light of his own, like the pale glow of the moon. Radamand bellowed once more as he and the assembled armies charged off into the darkness.
Their plan was simple: Ranged soldiers and small divisions of melee forces would assemble on each of the cliffs, while the bulk of the close combat troops would be stationed in the passages between them, to hold the enemy at bay. Those stationed on the cliffs would pick off any airborne threats that attempted to attack the spellcasters, otherwise assisting the ground forces when able. The melee divisions on the cliffs would be there to deal with any enemies that landed or climbed onto the cliffs themselves that the ranged troops did not bring down. Siege machines would be placed at the back of the armies, where they could fire into the heart of the enemy, avoiding fire too close to the static line of defense. The defenders were instructed not to press into the enemy, even if they were succeeding.
Their job was to hold the line, and nothing more.